


The Eastbourne Ultimatum.

by rubywallace25



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Crack Fic, F/F, F/M, Gen, Glenn is getting punched in the face, Malcolm Tucker FEM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:32:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubywallace25/pseuds/rubywallace25
Summary: I have written this in honour of the wonderful krikkiter68 and her fantastically funny Fever Bright fic...I encourage everyone to read it because it's well written, funny and hot...lol...This is a crack FEM fic, with a FEM Malcolm Tucker, set during the conference in Eastbourne.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [krikkiter68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/gifts).



Mal is stuffed.

Well and truly fucked, literally, metaphorically, every which way you cared to name.

She takes a cursory look at herself in the bathroom mirror, make-up free, she looks pale, haggard and every inch her forty-five years.

Forty fucking five, ridiculous.

Ridiculous.

Mal can feel it in her hands, a little slip of plastic, nothing, every fucking thing.

Positive.

Fuck.

Pregnant.

She hasn’t been pregnant in ten years.

The catalyst that had ended her marriage, her decision to visit that private clinic, and have the whole thing discreetly dealt with.

Fuck…it was an abortion, she’d had a fucking abortion to keep her career, and in the process she’d lost her husband.

But, Mal had lost him long before that, they’d still been of that generation, where the wife’s career was meant to take a backseat to the husbands, she was meant to fall into the supportive role, the little woman…well fuck that Mal Tucker was no ones little fucking wife.

She feels sick, again. 

The question, bubbles up inside her is it Sam’s or is it Nick’s.

It’s probably Murray’s, he does after all already have four kids at home, his sperms are clearly trident missiles.

Mal hopes it’s Murray’s because that will make things much easier, if it’s Sam’s then…then…

Well, he’s such a sweet boy, boy being the operative word, he’ll want to keep the fucking thing, and shame on her she can never say no to her Sam.

No, better now, that she fixes Murray in her mind as the culprit. 

The Eastbourne Ultimatum. 

Mal’s forty-five years old, this is her last chance to win the genetic lottery, to spawn like all the other morons 

Warpaint.

Get your warpaint on girl.

Whatever Mal decides, one thing is certain, someone is getting punched in the face today.

**Author's Note:**

> krikkiter68 please don't hate me.


End file.
